


you're poison but tasty

by neondragons



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Meet-Cute, THE FIC, but they're both thirsty for each other, obito is hotter than his cousin itachi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:09:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24524398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neondragons/pseuds/neondragons
Summary: Obito can’t keep his eyes away from the blond sitting by his lonesome at the corner of the bar.He’s not the type to pick-up guys at the bar, but for all of ten minutes that he’s spent stealing glances at the man, he likes what he’s seen.
Relationships: Deidara/Tobi (Naruto), Deidara/Uchiha Obito
Comments: 1
Kudos: 75





	you're poison but tasty

**Author's Note:**

> head empty, only t/obidei.

Obito can’t keep his eyes away from the blond sitting by his lonesome at the corner of the bar. 

He’s not the type to pick-up guys at the bar, but for all of ten minutes that he’s spent stealing glances at the man, he likes what he’s seen.

As if hearing his thoughts, the man raises his eyes from the table and meets Obito’s gaze. Unsure what to do now that he’s been caught staring, he holds the man’s eyes, because averting his gaze like a starstruck, shy kid is too juvenile. He’s _thirty_. He’s allowed to find people hot. 

The man quirks an eyebrow, and slowly, _deliberately_ , lets his eyes wander on Obito’s seated form. Shameless. _Bold._ The sheer audacity tugs an amused smirk on Obito’s lips. It’s refreshing to find someone who’s so unabashed with their desire. He likes it. 

Done with his scrutiny of Obito’s physique, the man must have found something he likes, because he leans back on his seat, tilts his head and gives Obito a brazen grin. 

Taking a leaf out of the man’s book, Obito grabs his drink and makes his way to the blond’s table. 

“Can I sit here?” He asks, nodding at the seat across the man. 

The man’s grin widens, “That depends, yeah. Are you unattached?”

Up close, the man looks younger than he originally thought, but no less gorgeous. Obito allows himself to return the grin, “Unattached. But I'm hoping you'll help me change that tonight.”

A laugh bursts out of the man and it’s as bright as the color of his hair. It strangely feels like hearing sunlight. 

God, he’s already turning corny. 

“Take your seat, then.” The man says, hints of laughter clinging at the corner of his eyes. “Let’s see if your game is as strong as your arms, yeah?”

He didn’t intend to flirt with anyone when he came to this bar, he just wanted to unwind and get himself drunk on a Friday night after work, but if his work clothes minus the jacket makes his biceps look damn pleasing to the eyes, then he’s not complaining. 

“What’s your name?” Obito asks when he’s made himself comfortable. The man raises an eyebrow, amused, like he knows something that Obito doesn’t. 

The secret reveals itself a beat later, when the man offers his name. “Deidara.”

Obito blinks, looking at the man in another light. He doesn’t think he’s seen him before, because this face is not a face that Obito’s likely to forget, but the name rings a bell. Familiar. 

Just to be cautious, Obito asks, “Have we met?”

Deidara grins, “No. But I’ve seen your face plenty at the Uchiha’s main house.”

Obito doesn’t live with the rest of his family in the main house. He left the place as soon as he could provide for himself and in the spirit of honesty, he didn’t move out of the place so much as he _ran away_ and threw a middle finger on his way out. His visits are only limited to national holidays and even those, Obito tries to skip out on. 

Still, he’s aware that there’s a hugeass portrait of the whole family hanging by the staircase with his own freshly scarred, grumpy seventeen-year old face on it. He hates it because Madara wouldn’t stop pestering him about his expression like he can change what his face actually looks like. So sorry I don’t look like the epitome of Uchiha perfection like your favorite nephew, Itachi—

Realization struck Obito. His eyes widen fractionally. “You’re Itachi’s boyfriend.”

It was the hottest gossip of the family a few months back. Mikoto wouldn’t stop talking about how Itachi managed to snag a boyfriend before Obito during their _mandatory_ passive-aggressive phone calls. Obito didn’t care, although he’s a bit surprised. Who knew Itachi has a heart under all that marble facade? Certainly not him. He let Mikoto chatter endlessly about it because she lets it slip that Madara is pissed as hell about it. It’s always fun to hear of Madara’s suffering. 

Deidara makes a displeased sound, and Obito’s gut rolls against all his inhibitions. 

“Ex-boyfriend, hm.” Deidara corrects, then he takes a huge gulp from his blue-green drink. Obito tries not to stare when Deidara licks his lips and looks at his nose instead. "We broke up two weeks ago.”

“Fortunately.” Obito blurts out before he can stop himself. At Deidara’s amused look, he corrects himself. “Or unfortunately. For Mikoto, I suppose. She’s planning for your wedding, last I checked."

"No offense to Mikoto, she's nice, but I'm glad I missed out on that shitshow." 

"And I'm glad that I didn't meet you on your wedding day," Obito tries to lighten the conversation, not liking the scowl that appears between Deidara's eyebrows, he adds, "or I'd be compelled to steal my cousin's husband-to-be."

"You think you're so smooth, hm." Deidara shoots back, but he loosens up. 

Honestly, it stings to know that he and Itachi share a type but if the type is Deidara, Obito can overlook it this once. The blond is a walking art sculpture from Obito's university books. The long, steady fingers and shiny hair, Obito's hardly the type to succumb to daydreaming but his brain conjures many scenes, each one more sensual than the last. 

Obito's fingers tighten around the glass. Fuck, Itachi's an idiot for letting this man go, but Obito's hardly one to pass up a golden opportunity, especially now that it's landed on his lap. Hopefully literally. 

"So," Obito starts, letting his eyes trace the outline of Deidara's eyes without shame, "tell me why you broke up. Last I heard you guys pissed off Madara by going on a spontaneous cruise to Uzushio and were quote-unquote _having a romance as wild as Uzushio's whirlpools_. Those were Mikoto's words, by the way."

Deidara narrows his eyes playfully, "Aren't we supposed to avoid past relationships tonight, yeah?"

Obito shrugs, leaning back on his seat and making the fake leather squeak with his movement. He doesn't miss how Deidara's eyes trail down his chest. "It's not everyday I find someone willing to talk shit about my family. What can I say, I'm opportunistic."

 _In more ways than one_ , he doesn't say, but by Deidara's appraising glance, it's been heard anyway. 

"So?" He prods, because besides finding Deidara the hottest man to walk the planet after Lava Man, Obito is genuinely curious to know what happened. 

Deidara taps a blue-painted fingernail on the rim of his glass, "Hm. It's… there's no third party, or any cheating involved, if that's what you're thinking." Deidara directs a pointed glare at him. Obito shrugs. He didn't think so. "It's… well, I don't like being… stagnant. I guess."

Obito takes a sip from his drink, humming. From what he remembers of Mikoto's gushing, Itachi's relationship is hardly _boring_. So, why?

"I didn't get bored." Deidara insists, slapping the small table, "But Itachi thought I was, so he made all this plans— skydiving, _the cruise to Uzushio,_ cavediving underwater, _getting married_ , and everything was going so fast! I'm twenty-one, for fuck's sake. I'm not ready to get hitched, you get it, yeah?"

Obito nods sagely. "I get it. I'm thirty, but marriage is too big a step for me."

Not to mention, he's never had a long-term relationship since graduating college. 

Deidara nods eagerly, "Exactly! I wasn't just prepared for that, yeah. So when Itachi got on one knee and proposed— _in front on a family dinner_ , by the way, I panicked and ran out." 

Yikes. Obito cringes, imagining the fall out of that one. You _don't_ walk out on an Uchiha family dinner. Obito would know, having done it himself. But also _yikes_ for Itachi because what the fuck. As inept as Obito is with interpersonal relationships, he _knows_ proposing at a public setting, a family setting, no less, is a big no-no. 

"I know I fucked up, yeah, but I was thinking Itachi and I could talk like fucking adults and I can explain why it's not the right time, but he thought I walked out on him because I didn't love him anymore, like, what the fuck, hm." Deidara huffs, crossing his arms. "I just want to live in the moment! I love Itachi but a relationship with him is like doing a step-by-step tutorial on family planning."

"Some people would say a man with that commitment to a relationship is a blessing." Obito quips, staring at the bottom of his glass. 

Deidara scoffs. "Itachi accused me of not taking our relationship seriously enough, yeah."

"What did you say?" Obito asks, distracted. It's not that he's not interested, but it's so fascinating to watch Deidara's face. It's not just about how symmetrical and pleasing he is to the eyes, but also the way his face pinch and contort— he's so _expressive_. It's captivating, and Obito can't take his eyes off him.

"I told him he takes everything way too seriously." Deidara says, nose scrunching. "Itachi made _so much_ plans to make our relationship adventurous but it just felt like he's going through the motions of preparing for the inevitable wedding he and his mother wanted so much." 

Obito laughs. "You have commitment issues."

Even under the bar's dim lights, Obito sees how bright Deidara flushes. "I do not!" 

"You got scared when Itachi proposed."

"I did not get scared, hm! I'm a twenty-one year old art student, I have plans of my own. I thought Itachi understood _my art_. I thought he understood _me_." Deidara runs a hand through his hair. "Load of bullshit that was, yeah."

"Yeah?" Obito leans on the table, resting his face on his fist, then he licks his lips, not missing how Deidara's eyes follow the movement, "Tell me about your art."

If he were a better man, Obito wouldn't even think of continuing this conversation. If he were a better man, he would have backed off the moment Deidara told him he was Obito's cousin's _ex-boyfriend._ If he were a better man, Obito wouldn't be sitting at this table, with this walking, talking embodiment of art, a man almost a decade younger than him, and who, by all intents and purposes, is off-limits to him for having gone on a _very_ recent break-up with Obito's cousin. 

Alas, Obito is just Obito, and he's a weak, weak man. 

He cuts Deidara off, "Actually, I can't hear you very well in here." Lies. Deidara can murmur in his lowest volume and Obito would be hanging onto the words falling off those sinful lips like it holds the long lost gospel of God. He smiles, taking out a wad of cash from his wallet and leaves it on the table. "Besides, talking about your art in this place seems disrespectful. Your craft deserves a better stage than a random bar in Konoha." 

Deidara leans back and tilts his head, challenging. God, Obito can _bite_ that pale, glorious neck and worship it with his mouth. "You think I'm coming with you? Do you think I'm crazy, hm? I _barely_ know you."

"Somehow," Obito says, emphatically, "I doubt you're sane enough not to, either."

"You just called me insane and you think I'm coming with you?" In spite of the incredulity, Deidara sounds delighted.

Obito stands, and if he rolls his shoulders and stretches his arms, then it's only because they've gone stiff. It has nothing to do with Deidara. At all. He side-eyes the blond, and feigns ignorance to the lingering gaze. "Aren't you?" 

"You're presumptuous, hm."

"Hopeful." Obito corrects, and he hopes Deidara mistakes the flush on his cheeks as a result of alcohol. 

Deidara wipes off the suspicious glare too quickly for it to be anything but an act. Then, the grin that replaces it is too wide, too devious. Obito doesn't bother hiding his own grin and hopes it's not as excited as the rest of his insides feel. 

With one smooth movement, Deidara grabs Obito's tie and yanks him down to his height. Obito's breath hitches. When Deidara exhales, he feels it bounce against his chin, then burns a straight path down to his gut. It smells like pineapple and rum. Obito rests a hand on Deidara's neck to stabilize his footing, painfully aware of his heart pounding under his ribcage. 

Obito watches, wholly captivated, as Deidara circles his wrist, and _licks._

 _Fuck,_ Obito curses in his head, choking off a moan. Deidara presses a final kiss to his palm, grinning.

Leaning forward until their foreheads touch, because he's legs have suddenly turned jelly, Obito squeezes his eyes close and groans. "You're going to ruin me, aren't you?"

"Depends. Will you let me?"

Obito inhales deeply, resisting the urge to bury his nose in Deidara's lavender scented hair. He forces himself away, and exhales. He can't help himself from pressing a feathered kiss on the tips of Deidara's hair.

And, with a light heart and heavy gaze, Obito hopes Deidara can see how beautiful he is in Obito's eyes. 

Obito grins. "I can't wait."


End file.
